


Cry Havoc

by lil_1337



Series: Five sentence fics [16]
Category: Gundam Wing
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-09-01
Updated: 2006-09-01
Packaged: 2017-11-06 22:14:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/423854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lil_1337/pseuds/lil_1337
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sally and Trowa discuss anniversaries and life as a soldier.  From the 5sentence fics universe.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cry Havoc

"Is this seat taken?"

Sally looked up from the glass she had been staring into somewhat morosely for the last few minutes. Trowa stood on the other side of the table, whiskey bottle in one hand and a glass in the other, waiting for permission to join her. She waved a hand at the other chair, an invitation of sorts, which Trowa accepted.

They drank in comfortable silence until Trowa had finished his first glass and was refilling it. "Don't you have some place to be?" Sally's tone wasn't angry or accusatory, more curious than anything.

Trowa nodded and took a drink. "Yes. Here."

Snorting, Sally refilled her glass before downing a good portion of it. "How did you know?"

Trowa matched her movements, swallowing close to half the liquid in his glass. "Wufei."

Sally nodded, acknowledging that Trowa had confirmed her suspicions. In years past, Wufei had been the one to sit across the table from her, keeping her company as she drank and making sure that she got home safely. This year however, by mutual agreement, he was watching Stephen, Sally's adopted son, so that the boy would not be subjected to seeing his mother falling down drunk and then hung over. This was one of the things she could shelter him from so she did it without stopping to consider other alternatives.

Again silence settled around them, until Trowa set his glass down on the table and leaned back to study his companion. "What are we celebrating?"

/Or mourning/?

The words hung in the air, unspoken by either but felt by both. People rarely buried themselves in the bottle of a whiskey bottle in remembrance of happy memories.

Sally looked down into her glass, studying the amber liquid. It was a moment before she answered him. Choosing her words carefully. "The loss of my innocence."

She wasn't surprised at the slight smirk that graced his lips in response. "I lost my virginity long before my innocence, smart ass." She paused, collecting her thoughts, amusement fading to something much darker. When she finally spoke again she looked past him at a spot somewhere not in the room or that time. "I was eighteen when I joined The Alliance. My father was a soldier. I knew what would happen, but there is a big difference between knowing and believing. I walked into the jungle a civilian in cammies and walked out a soldier. Bloodied in battle and believing that people would die and some of them would be at my hand."

Trowa nodded, understanding and compassion in his eyes and the way he leaned towards her. Taking a swallow of his drink, he tilted it in her direction. "Cry Havoc."

"And lose the dogs of war." She clinked her glass to his and then drained it. "Half of us came back. Once a year on the day we were shipped back to base I have a drink for those who didn't come home."

She refilled her glass, watching Trowa through the beginnings of an alcoholic haze. "What about you? When did you lose your innocence?"

Trowa's reply was soft, almost lost in the surrounding noise of the bar. "A long time before I was bloodied in battle." He toyed with his glass, swirling the liquid so it created a miniature typhoon inside. "I was raised by mercenaries. I'm not sure I was ever innocent." He smiled sadly. "Not in the way you were. I never had the choice of not knowing people died in war."

"When is your anniversary?" She knew Trowa wouldn't need to ask what she meant. Every soldier had one. Those with humanity and compassion never forgot theirs. It woke them up nights and led them to question their right to exist.

"November 19th, AC190." Trowa didn't pause or think about it.

Sally frowned, her mind doing the math slowly through the whiskey induced deficit. "You were ten?" She'd known the Gundam pilots were young, but still something inside of her sickened at that thought. A thought niggled in the back of her mind. There was a significance associated with that date she couldn't quite get a hold of.

"As near as we can tell." It was his turn to look beyond the room and stare down the past. "It was the first time I ever piloted a mobile suit in battle. Before that I had been the kid with no name who hung around. I did mechanic work and salvaged for parts and supplies. Any grunt work that needed to be done I was fair game for. That day I became a true member of the mercenary corp. An equal." He swallowed part of his drink and set the glass down on the table. "It's also the day I had my first drink."

Something clicked in Sally's head and she closed her eyes against the pain of all the implications. "That's your birthday."

Trowa nodded his head and refilled his glass before replying with a simple yes. He drank part of the contents then looked at her. His expression more open that its usual studied neutrality. "It’s the day the soldier was born." Again he paused before continuing. "That's what I am. What we are. We fought. We killed. We lived, and someday we'll die."

"But not tonight." Sally picked up her glass, raising it in a toast. "Tonight we celebrate living. By honoring the dead." She clinked her glass against his. "To the 27th battalion; may they rest in peace."

Trowa touched her glass with his. "To the mercenary corp. May they do the same."


End file.
